Freedom

An amazing thing happened today. The minute I came home my husband asked how physical therapy went today and I immediately responded by yelling, “The baby will take a sippy cup!”

I have been nursing almost exclusively for eight months. Early on she took a bottle and had to in fact because she was jaundiced and apparently had a form that was connected to breastfeeding. I had to give her formula in a bottle for 24 hours in order to cause her bilirubin levels to drop. Fortunately they did and I was left knowing that she could take a bottle. Even at six weeks I was able to go out to dinner with some girlfriends while leaving her at home with visiting family knowing that they could feed her. Somehow things changed and with those changes I began to feel claustrophobic.

An undercurrent of stress always existed from knowing that all feedings were on me.  There are women who love nursing. I am not one of them. Don’t get me wrong, I love the closeness that comes from nursing. I love the fact that I am doing the best for my baby. However, when the first birthday comes into view I am ready to give it up, move on with my life and get my body back all the while cherishing the memories.  

I had actually talked with a lactation consultant at one of my Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) meetings recently about my predicament. My fears were confirmed- it was too late to try to get her to take a bottle. I could, however, try a sippy cup. She told me to try the kind with a straw. I was skeptical. How could she possibly suck on a straw? She was the expert I reasoned, so I decided to follow her advice precisely. I got two different kinds. Neither of them worked. In fact, both ended up on my wooden floor more times than I cared to count. I finally gave up trying realizing that all they were good for was creating ding marks on the floor.

So it was by chance (although nothing ever really is) that I happened to mention to one of my mom friends the issue I was having with sippy cups not working. She simply and matter of factly told me to get the starter sippy cup with the two side handles. I almost dismissed her advice not wanting to buy yet another sippy cup. But, I thought to myself, she does have three kids plus watches several more in her home. I figured it might just be worth a try.

On a whim I decided to pack the newly purchased sippy cup with formula for back up during my physical therapy appointment. It was not an ideal situation any way you looked at it having to take my baby to the appointment. Fortunately, a neighbor friend had offered to take my oldest.

So while I was in the middle of the appointment after having completed exercises with a fussing baby on the floor at my feet and having to get my hips realigned with her actually sitting up on my chest, I handed her the sippy cup. At this point I was waiting for electrode therapy and a deep tissue massage. She was sitting in her car seat. She instantly got the hang of it and began feverishly lapping up the formula all the while making little happy baby noises. It was amazing. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Not my continual pain. Not the annoyance at having to bring her there in the first place. Not the fact that I would be hitting rush hour traffic on my way home which happened to be an hour away. I had been set free and I instantly felt it. Spa day with my MOPS friends was not a dream now but a reality. All kinds of options were open to me now that had previously been closed tightly shut. She could have yelled her head off the rest of the appointment and it wouldn’t have mattered a bit.  So what is the moral to all of this one might wonder. Ultimately, mommy advice is the best advice of all and should never be disregarded as coming from the true expert.